The Man in Black
by SherlockGirl
Summary: This is a Fanfiction that I am still working on. I'm really proud of it too. I hope you like it!
1. The Pub Stalker

The Man in Black

Sherlock and John walked quickly into their flat and hurried up the stairs. John sat down with the laptop and started to blog about the case they had just finished that day. Sherlock flopped down on the couch, after putting his robe over his clothes, and laid down straight on his back. He put his hands over his mouth in a praying stance and closed his eyes.

John took a sip of his tea and looked at Sherlock; being the most quiet he had been in a long time (3 days to be exact). He chuckled to himself and went back to typing. Suddenly, Sherlock jumped up from the couch and grabbed his scarf and coat.

"We need to go somewhere…" Sherlock said, "Let's go, John. We need some air". He headed down the stairs and before he opened the door, he yelled, "We're going out, Mrs. Hudson. No point in waiting for us!" He heard a distant response of," Ok dear, have fun!" from another room and started to walk out the door.

John was definitely _not_ in the mood to go anywhere. He had a horrible date with a woman named Corey the night before; filled with car chases, gun shootings, and Sherlock almost getting them killed. But he had to go, because it is never good to leave Sherlock alone, especially at night when his mind is running with thoughts. John grabbed his coat and phone and ran out the door to catch up with Sherlock, who was already down the road.

The 2 men walked for quite some time before they appear upon a little pub and walk inside. They took the seat near the window as the bartender came to see what they wanted.

"Nothing for us, thanks" Sherlock said before John could say anything. The man shrugged and started to walk away when John quickly added, "But, I'll have a glass of water, thanks". The bartender nodded and went behind the bar. Sherlock and John were quiet for a long time. Sherlock was staring out the window, only looking at John when he took a sip of his water.

"Ok…" John started, "What is it? I know that face. What's going on?" Sherlock sat up in his seat and put his elbows on the table. He leaned forward slowly.

"Don't look now, but a man out there has been following us since we left Baker Street." Sherlock said quietly. John slowly turned around and saw a man in all black with a gun in his hand. He was wearing a hat that covered his face, so John couldn't see what the man looked like.

Sherlock slapped his face and John jumped back in his chair. "You idiot!" Sherlock yelled, as quietly as he could, "I told you NOT to look". Sherlock looked out the window and saw the man, starting to head towards them. Sherlock got up quickly and grabbed his phone off the table, "We have to leave…NOW!" John got up and followed Sherlock, who had gone behind the counter, looking for a back door.

"HEY! You're not allowed behind here" the bartender screamed as they made their way through the crates of beer and wine in the back and out the door.

"Sorry!" John yelled quickly as he followed Sherlock, who was already halfway down the street, walking rather fast. When John caught up with him, he could see Sherlock was shaking and looked kind of afraid. John wasn't used to Sherlock being afraid, so he knew something was very wrong. Sherlock started to run as he heard the footsteps of the man in black getting closer. They speed to a nearby ally and ran to the other side.

"Sherlock…" John started. Sherlock looked at John, scared and serious and John knew this wasn't the time to talk. They neared the other side of the ally when John started to slow down a bit. Suddenly, Sherlock grabbed his hand and started to almost drag him down the street, speeding up whenever he could. John quickly got his breath back and got a better grip of his hand. The 2 ran down the street and into another ally. They pressed up against the wall, trying to confuse the man.

"You know…" John started, gasping between each word to catch his breath." You just… willingly…grabbed my hand. If I know…the real Sherlock, he would have...never done that." Sherlock just stared at him, trying to smile, but he couldn't. He looked serious on the outside, but inside, he was scared for his and his friend's life. They caught their breath and ran back out into the street.

"Sherlock, People better not…"

"SHUT UP AND RUN" Sherlock yelled. They ran as fast as they could as they heard the man's footsteps get closer and closer. When they finally made it to Baker Street, Sherlock and John ran to 221B, slammed open the door, slammed it back shut, locked it and ran up the stairs.

The 2 men looked at each other; they ran to look out the window. The man in black was staring back up at them, the gun pointing up at the sky. 3 gunshots were heard and the man walked away, disappearing into the night. Sherlock and John backed away from the window and fell into their chairs at the same time. They were gasping for air and in between each gasp was a small laugh of some sort.

"What the _hell_ was that about" John said when he caught his breath. They both laughed quietly for what they just went through and John went to make some more tea."Would you like some tea, Sherlock?"

"No thanks, John" he said. While John was in the kitchen, Sherlock heard a beep on his phone. He took it from his pocket and look at the message. It read: Come here, Sherlock. Something's wrong- MH. Sherlock sighed and under his breath said, "Oh for God's sake" His brother, Mycroft was sitting in his office waiting for a response. His phone beeped and he saw the response of: Not right now, _brother_. I just had a very long night- SH.

Mycroft sighed, remembering his brother's stubbornness from childhood. Mycroft sent a message back saying: I know…That's what it's about- MH. Sherlock sighed, remembering his brother's bossiness from childhood. He got up and grabbed his coat again. John came in as Sherlock started down the stairs.

"Where are you going?" John asked confusingly. Sherlock sighed and put his hand up to John's shoulder.

"I have to go back out'' Sherlock sighed, "It's Mycroft. He knows something about what went on tonight." John put his teacup down and stood in front of Sherlock, blocking the door.

"Are you _serious_?" John asked, yelling. "We ALMOST DIED just now…again! I'm not letting you go back out there by yourself and I'm certainly not going back out" Sherlock pushed John out of the way and pulled him aside.

"John…" He started," I like that you are worried for my safety, but I'm also worried for yours, and Mrs. Hudson's. If your lives are in danger, I must try to stop it. I promise I'll be back before you know it. I promise…" And with that, John watched the great Sherlock Holmes walk back out into the night, not knowing if he would ever return back on Baker Street.


	2. Mycroft's Request

Chapter 2: Mycroft's Request

Sherlock stood in front of his brother's office. He sighed and his foggy breath from his lips reached towards the sky and disappeared into the night. He ascended up the slippery stairs and slipped through the doors. He strolled down the empty hallways down to his brother's office. He grasped the door handle when he heard the echoing of distant footsteps and the clicking of a umbrella down from where he just came.

"Mycroft…" he breathed as he turned to see his brother coming down the hall. He stopped at the foot of his office and looked at his brother, deep into his eyes.

"Hello, brother of mine…please come in…" he said with a sly grin. Mycroft followed his little brother inside and slammed the door closed. He walked around to his desk and plopped into his chair.

"Well…I heard about your little incident tonight…with Watson, by that matter…" Mycroft started. "I must say…someone really wants you or Watson dead."

"I'm only here because _you_ asked me to. Now, what is it about this man that you needed me for?" Sherlock demanded."It's late and I promised John and Mrs. Hudson I wouldn't be long. I need to finish a case tonight.

"You're promising John things now? Oh Sherlock, you and your "friend" are..."

"Oh, shut up, like you'll ever get friends to care about"

"I have friends, at the Diogenes Club. You're the one with no friends"

Sherlock fell silent. He looked at his brother and scoffed.

"You think those fools really give a damn about you? They are just there for quiet readingand maybe a brandy At least the friends I have actually socialize" he responded.

Mycroft fell back in his chair, stunned by his brother's remark. Sherlock smirked as he went towards the window. He looked out the window and heard the bongs of Big Ben telling him it was 1:00 a.m.

"Back to the subject" He finally said, "About that man. Someone is definitely after you and we need to investigate on it. It could mean the end of your career…and possibly mine, depending on what he wants"

"I don't do unidentified cases that I know nothing about, especially if they're after me, for that matter."

Well, you're going to do this one because I said so, _brother_."

Sherlock looked at his brother, taking a sip of water at his desk. He sighed and sat back down into the chair in front of him. "Fine" he scoffed in annoyance.

"Good. Should I show you the way out?" Mycroft asked sarcastically. Sherlock wasn't listening to his brother. He was already halfway out the door when his brother caught up with him. It was starting to snow on the streets of London when they both walked out early that morning.

"I'll get you a cab" Mycroft advised.

"I don't need one; I can walk without you always watching me"

"Fine! Fine." Mycroft hesitated for a minute as his brother started to stroll away,"Oh…and Sherlock…"

"Wha…"Sherlock started as he felt a jabbing pain in his neck. He stumbled back and fell into a cab. His brother shut the door and told the cab driver what to do. As the window was down, Sherlock looked up, drowsily, at his brother.

"Oh, Sherlock…you stubborn boy you. Keep a low profile for now will you?" his brother reminded him as the cab drove away. Sherlock tried to say something, but when he opened his mouth, he was out cold.

As Mycroft watch the cab driver pull away, he called up someone on his phone." Oh, hello John. I surly hope you weren't asleep, Sherlock is coming back now. He might be a little…well…on the drunk side…"


	3. Watson's Stubborn Child

Watson's Stubborn Child

John watched sleepily as he saw the cab pull up. He had heard Mycroft's message after falling asleep. When he didn't see Sherlock rush out like he usually did, he rushed out to the cab. When he opened the back door, he saw Sherlock, passed out on the seats.

"Oh Sherlock…" What did u do" John said to himself. He started to pull Sherlock out of the cab. Sherlock awoke with a start. Sherlock drowsily struggled to get up as Watson pulled him out. John pushed Sherlock to lean on the door while he paid the cab driver. When he drove away, John put his arm around Sherlock to support him. John opened the flat door and dragged Sherlock up the stairs

"Good Heavens! What happened?" Ms. Hudson called up the stairs as John pulled Sherlock up the last steps

"Nothing to worry about, Ms. Hudson! He'll be fine after a good night's rest" John yelled as he pushed the door open. Sherlock was awake now and was struggling for john to let go of him. Ms. Hudson nodded her head and "whispered "oh dear' as she headed back in her room.

John managed to get the door shut again, and threw Sherlock onto the couch. As soon as he was pushed on, Sherlock fell on his side.

"Joh…John…" Sherlock murmured. John turned around and rushed to help him up. He leaned on the wall as john sat next to him.

"Try to sit still. I need to see what happened here" John said to Sherlock as he put his hands on his neck to check pulse.

"No...NO. Get your hands…off me" Sherlock said childishly as he pushed John's hands away. As soon as Sherlock got John away from him, he tried to get up. John grabbed Sherlock arms and sat him back down.

John looked into Sherlock's blue-green eyes and scolded "Sherlock Holmes, I am your doctor, and you do what I tell you" Sherlock scoffed and looked away as he tried to get up again. John threw his hands in the air, grabbed Sherlock and pinned him down to the floor

"Your stubborn, you know that" John said harmfully "You're a drama queen. A stubborn child. Sherlock Holmes… STAY STILL!" Sherlock looked shocked at John and stop struggling. John signed, got his gloves, and checks his pulse. He saw a small hole in his neck, he touched it carefully. Sherlock flinched. John smelled his fingers and new exactly what happened.

"The only explanation is your brother drugged you" John concluded. He put Sherlock on the couch." There blood coming out of this, see?" he showed Sherlock the small drops of blood on his gloves. Sherlock tried to keep his eyes open, but he couldn't

"Low…Profile…" Sherlock murmured as John threw out the gloves.

"Hmmm?" John sounded confused. He brought his chair closer to the couch and sat in front of Sherlock. He leaned in closer. "Didn't catch that, Sherlock. Speck up."

"Mycroft… Low Profile…." He spoke in a slurred voice. Sherlock tried to say more but he fell over on his side and fell asleep.

John sighed. He put his teacup away, and sat back down.

"Sherlock, Sherlock, Sherlock…" He whispered as he grabbed his friend's robe and put it over him, "I might as well stay here. Can't have you going anywhere. You should be fine by morning." He looked at the clock that spelled 4:00; "Well really…it is Morning" John brought over his jacket, and put it on.

He watched the drugged Sherlock as his curly, black hair shined in the light. His tall body lay motionless on the couch. John sighed


	4. The Message from Nobody

The Message from Nobody

As the sun rose onto the cold, snow-covered town of London, a sliver of sun peeked through the curtains that awoke John. He squinted at first, the light shining in his face, but then gained his normal eyesight back. He looked across where his friend was sleeping early that morning, but he wasn't there

'Sherlock?" John called.

No answer

"Sherlock!" John yelled

"For God's sake, John" a familiar voice said in annoyance, "I'm over here"

John got up to see Sherlock in the kitchen, staring at the microscope (as always). He sighed as he finally noticed what the time was. 9:34a.m.

"How long have you been up?" John asked as he watched him.

"I don't know when I got up; I don't pay much attention to time." Sherlock answered

"Ok"

"You were right you know."

"About…about what"

"Mycroft did drug me this morning." Sherlock turned his neck to face John, "I took my blood sample. It was some drug, didn't have time to find out what.

John watched as Sherlock stuck out his hand and motioned something from in John's pocket. John looked down and saw his phone. He handed it to Sherlock. He took it and turned it around. He typed with his thumb as he watched his microscope closely. When he finished, he placed it on the table.

"Who did u text?" John asked. Sherlock looked at him, annoyed.

"Lestrade." He finally answered, "We're going out". He jumped from his chair and grabbed his coat, wrapped his scarf around his neck, threw his phone into his pocket and headed out the door.

"Don't you think it's a little dangerous to be walking around after what…?" John started. But he realized there no use. Sherlock was already up and running. John hurried down the stairs and followed Sherlock down the road. The pair took turn after turn until they reached the pub they went to last night. Sherlock stood behind a nearby building and looked at the closed pub from the window.

"What…what is it?" John looked over his shoulder, "It's closed". But Sherlock wasn't listening. He mumbled to himself as he made his way closer to the window. Then he started to run. John followed as they followed the same path from last night, but this time, he stopped a few feet away from where they originally stopped.

As John followed, he started to piece together what he thought Sherlock was doing. When the stopped at the last place they went to before Baker Street, is when John noticed Sherlock was on his phone typing. He strolled to a nearby park bench and sat, looking at his phone.

John sat near him and tried to look over what he was doing. He thought he was texting someone, But that wasn't the case. Sherlock was deep in thought as he looked at the jumble of gibberish on the screen. John watched cabbies go by and people passing them

His black curls melted down to his brow, which lead to his pale, white skin. His long neck and body was hunched over this small device. John, being a doctor, knew that he was confused and not getting enough sleep. But, of course he was Sherlock Holmes. And he wasn't a normal human being.

He wasn't even a human being. He was a machine. Didn't think he had to eat. Or sleep. And always put himself over others. He was better than anyone. He loved the thrill of the chase. He loved the risk of taking his life. He loved the danger in it all He was 'The Great Sherlock Holmes". But John was probably the only person that ever saw Sherlock as a real person that did make mistakes. And sometimes, but not always, needed help.

After about 10 minutes, John was going to speak when Sherlock turned to him and started into his hazel eyes.

"Did you see it?" Sherlock questioned. John looked at him confused.

"What…see what?"

"Did you see it?!"

"No...See what?!"

"The message!"

"What message?"

"ughhh" Sherlock grumbled angrily. He stood up and put his hands up to his face. He glanced at John, wondering how such a doctor like him could miss something so obvious.

"You can't tell me you didn't see it. It was the same thing in every time…" Sherlock started

"You expected me to pay attention to something else? I was trying to make sure I could catch up with you, you maniac. "John said sternly as he started him, right in the eyes. Sherlock looked back into both his eyes, changed his face to a sort of understanding, nodded, and sat back down. He turned to his friend.

"Look. At every placed he stopped, he left a sign, a letter or a number" Sherlock explained, " There were about 3 in each spot" He showed John the letters. All separate. It read: HSE REH TUC MP9 ESU OHE RAW 390 SYN NEJ DLO 143 220.

John studied the letters and number. He searched for any patterns. He signed. Sherlock stood sat and looked too.

"You were an army doctor. You had codes, didn't you?" Sherlock asked. John looked at him and shook his head.

"No Shit, Sherlock…" John said. He had always wanted to use that with him. He looked at his face. Sherlock looked shocked and a smirk reached across his face.

"~Even better than I expected…~" he thought as he smiled and has a small laugh and went back to cracking it.

"~He always wanted to do that~" Sherlock thought to himself. He smiled as he watched John's eyes dart from one set of letters to the next.

"Now I know what its like to be you…" John said out loud suddenly.

"Nope…you have no idea…" Sherlock scoffed. They glanced at each other and shared a small laugh and a smile reached across their faces, a sight not seen for a while.

Suddenly, Sherlock stopped and looked up. "What's the date?

"It's February 23…"

"Stupid…Stupid…It's all so clear now…" Sherlock murmured. John looked up, still confused.

"You got it?"

"Yes. Yes. Brilliant! Yes, I got it"

"Well, what is it?"

Sherlock smiled and laughed in relief of completion. "I don't think I'm going to tell you just yet…" he snickered…

John looked annoyed. "Are you serious…All this time and you're not even going to tell me what it says?"

"Nope."

"Sherlock."

"What?"

"You're an asshole"

"Like you've never told me before"

"What the hell does it say?"

"You'll know soon enough, my dear Watson" Sherlock concluded and started to stroll back to Baker Street. John just stood there, annoyed. But there was no use in trying. Sherlock was right. He would find out soon enough. And so, with that, he followed Sherlock, back to Baker Street and the only problem left was how Sherlock would risk their lives…a second time.


End file.
